


Not Quite a Village

by tatooinesun



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Married Life, Parenthood, Pregnancy, elric family feels, here for stay at home ed dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5306525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooinesun/pseuds/tatooinesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was by no means peaceful, this little life they'd carved out together. But it was lively and tender and theirs and that made it perfect.<br/>Edwin post series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite a Village

**Author's Note:**

> For no particularly valid reason I had the sudden urge to write Edwin domesticity. It's been five years let me live FMA.

Ed awoke to the sharp feeling of something icy and cold pressing into the curve of his back. It took him all of two minutes to deduce that the unpleasant sensation was his wife's freezing foot, not in fact a hulking chunk of ice. It took him another minute or so for the screeching racket fogging his ears to register as anything more than white noise, but when the sound molded into his son's piercing cries he wanted to roll back into his pillow and feign sleep. Freezing toes aside.

Winry was nothing if not persistent. He'd thought that after knowing her for over twenty years he would have deduced this by now. There was another forceful jolt against his back - this time he was pretty sure it was the jagged edge of her elbow, that or a sharpened shiv - and he figured he couldn't postpone the inevitable any longer.

"You're an evil evil woman."

He felt her snort against the back of his neck.

"It's your turn," she cooed and he almost grinned vengefully because he'd be more than happy to stick his freezing limbs all over Winry's bare body until she flushed and squealed and then maybe they could find more creative ways to harbor a little warmth, but no she'd seen right through his plan evidently with the scowl she was giving him.

"Granny's probably got the little guy swaddled and rocking by now." Another distant shriek proved otherwise and he let out a blow of air through his pursed lips. That hag could sleep through anything.

"Edward." Winry's voice was full of warning.

"I'm going," he yawned widely before rolling his way out of bed to go mind after little Ed Jr.

Not his son's officially christened name of course but that itself was a work in progress. They'd traded and bickered over what to call their first born from the moment Winry had breathlessly announced she was expecting, and nearly ten months later they were still at a stalemate. For now it was just 'Junior' or 'The Little One' until one of them eventually had a stroke of genius.

The pregnancy in and of itself had had about as much thought process behind it as their baby naming strategy - as in to say they'd entirely winged it. It had been unplanned for one. Not a complete and utter surprise by any means - hell it wasn't like they'd taken any sorts of precautions but they definitely weren't prepared for the monumental change an extra Elric would bring to their lives.

Winry found solace and sound advice in Granny but Ed had had no one to console in. He couldn't exactly stroll up to his wife's grandmother one day and pose questions such as what do I do if Winry goes into labor early and is sex still a go even if she's knocked up. The important things.

And so his insecurity in regards to the pregnancy had translated into an incessant habit of hovering. He had helped Winry out of bed in the mornings, practically spoon fed her her breakfast, handed her tools while she tended to her automail and jumped up to get her coffee or an extra pillow at even the most minor inclinations of discomfort until finally Winry'd had enough and snapped.

"I'm not dying Ed, I'm having a baby. I don't think you can tell the difference between the two."

He had flushed and glared, pointing a finger defensively. "Can too. I'm trying to keep you from working yourself to death dummy, you're supposed to take it easy when you're knocked up."

She'd glanced up at him from the opposite end of the couch where she was lounged comfortably with her feet on his lap and a book in her hand. "Yes I'm certainly working up a sweat."

He had attempted to distance himself since then but really could he be blamed for trying to be a supportive husband?

Probably.  
Unsurprisingly, being a father hadn't exactly come natural to him either. Of course he wasn't a complete and total failure but he hadn't exactly had a stellar example of his own growing up. If he was any better than that bearded bastard he'd consider it a personal victory. And for the most part he was.

He loved their son with every fiber he possessed in his being but it didn't always translate to the proper swaddling technique or his willingness to change an ungodly amount of soiled diapers. But he tried, fuck he tried. He was determined that this kid and any other children destined in their future would grow up in a home so full of love they'd be smothered by it and if getting up at two in the morning to rock his infant son would properly convey the devotion and sincerity he felt then he would damn well do it, complaining not exactly aside but at a much lesser frequency.

For example, he only grumbled slightly under his breath as he made his way to the nursery at the opposite end of the hallway. Den, inevitably woken up by the racket, had climbed out from under their bed and wove his way clumsily in Ed's wake. The loyal dog had proven to be quite the nurturer since the baby had come under their roof, determined to accompany his masters on every frequent trip to the nursery. He paused briefly to scratch the old mutt behind the ears, earning him a sleepy tail wag and lolling tongue.

The crying had only seemed to grow more resilient during the ten second trek it took to cross the house and upon entering the room he couldn't help but grin down at the squirming bundle sprawled in the wooden crib he'd spent nearly three months constructing all by himself.

This tiny little being that he and Winry had created together - consequence free. Equivalent exchange could go fuck itself as far as he was concerned.

Cooing softly, he lifted his son - still such an overwhelming but welcome concept - and cradled the bundle in his arms, making meager rocking motions in an attempt to shush him. This only proved to upset the infant further and Ed began to get frantic, which didn't exactly aid in the consistency of his rocking. The baby's cries grew louder. Ed persisted desperately.

"Shhh, you're gonna wake mama little guy. You really don't want to have to deal with a grouchy mama do you?" Ed also really didn't want to deal with a grouchy mama. Espescially one who'd been up with their son the entirety of the previous night and was completely sleep deprived. And the other part of him, the horribly stubborn and competitive part, wanted to prove that he was just as capable when it came to tending a baby as she was.

His efforts proved futile however.

"Give him here," Winry said from the door without prelude. "He's probably hungry is all."

Ed stiffened, clutching the baby possessively to his chest.

"I've got things handled here Win," he argued over the sound of their son's persistent cries. "Go on back to bed."

"Oh? And just how do you plan on feeding him?"

He sighed stubbornly. "You're tired."

"I'm also a mother. That takes priority Ed."

He knew that look, the exact quirk of her mouth and tiny unamused crease that appeared between her eyebrows. There was no winning when she glared at him like that and so he relented, handing the baby into his wife's waiting arms with a dissatisfied harrumph.

He stood by watching, feeling useless as Winry settled into the rocking chair adjacent to the crib and proceeded to nurse the infant. Disgruntled as he was, he couldn't help the surge of affection that arose at the sight of the maternal bond between mother and child, smiling as Winry began to hum an old lullaby from their youth. She made a perfect mother, through and through. He needed to tell her that more often. Nurturing, collected, patient - all traits she had in abundance and Edward seemed completely devoid of. So what did that make him?

"Something the matter Ed?"

He glanced up to see that Winry had already placed the baby back in his crib and the absence of crying solidified that he was sound asleep.

He gave her a lazy if slightly forced smile before taking her hand into his. "Nah. Let's get back to bed."

***

The gloomy rain drenched skies deemed automail maintenance a necessity the next morning. There was something about stormy weather that always seemed to bring out the flaws in Winry's mechanics; this time it was a god awful squeaking noise that set Ed's teeth on edge the minute he dragged himself out of bed. In Winry's personal opinion, Ed's incessant complaints were far more annoying than the squeaking itself but she decided against antagonizing him any further. The baby had kept them up until the wee hours of the morning so they were both more than a bit out of it.

Ed sat on the couch in nothing but a pair of briefs with his automail leg propped across her lap, an added advantage thanks to the conveniencey of their established intimacy. Not to say she didn't still flush at his touch or catch her gaze lingering just a little too long on the lean muscles of his body, she just didn't have to be discreet about it anymore.

At the moment however she was sure her husband would barely bat an eye if she were to trace said muscles with her tongue. He'd been distracted all morning and initially she had attributed it to his annoyance over his prosthetic but she was starting to detect an underlying factor beneath Ed´s flippant and moody exterior. She knew him too well to not realize when something was off.

He winced suddenly and she jumped, realizing her own distractedness had caused her to go a little overboard with the wrench, tightening a bolt too far to the right.

“That hurts like hell,” he spoke through clenched teeth.

“Sorry.” She quickly reversed her handiwork before sighing and wiping her greasy hands on the towel draped across her forearm.

“You're normally so precise with that. Losing your touch Mrs. Elric?"

She huffed a sardonic laugh, eyes flashing dangerously. “Don't make me throw this wrench at you. Now sit still so I can make sure everything's in order.”

She heard him mumble something that sounded suspiciously like ‘machine junkie’ under his breath and she gave his leg a rap with her tool, despite the fond undertone that clung to his voice. Fifteen minutes and several murmured complaints later she was finally helping him to his feet.

"There. You're squeak free."

She watched admiringly as he tested his prosthetic limb, stretching and lunging until he finally seemed satisfied, all too content to enjoy the show.

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are?" He snaked an arm around her waist with a fond smile and she reciprocated the affection with a grin of her own.

"It's been known to come up once or twice."

He hummed softly, bringing his lips to her ear and a shiver rolled down her spine. "It's still early you know. We've probably got an hour or so until we're supposed to be officially up."

He was right of course. Granny's thundering snores could still occasionally be heard through the rafters and the baby had yet to alert them of any dissatisfaction. She was just about to take him up on that offer, curling a bare thigh around his hip when the proposition was interrupted by the distant cries of their awakened son. Right on cue.

"Perfect timing," Ed sighed into her neck, disentangling himself with a smile that promised later.

“Can you get him? My hands are covered in grease.”

The sudden and distinct look of reluctance in his eye gave her pause and she frowned, tilting her head. There it was again. That thing that had been hounding him all morning clawing it's subtle way to the surface. She knew he would never elaborate if she didn't prod but he departed before she could say a word, leaving her to frown at the space he'd vacated. Ed was easy to read but deciphering the source of his emotions was a challenge in and of itself - a challenge she'd been wrestling with all her life.  
Soon soft shushes mingled with the sounds of relentless crying and Ed returned a few seconds later with their squirming son curled against his chest, a harrowed look on his face as he tried to no avail to comfort the restless infant. The crying had subsided enough that they could talk however and she reached out to touch his arm.

"Talk to me," she said firmly.

Ed glanced up at her before shaking his head slightly, offering the baby a finger to cradle in his plumb grip. "S'nothing."

Right. And she was the Fuhrer of Amestris.

"Edward."

After two years they were still ironing out the kinks of marital communication. Of course there were no skeletons in the closet or earth shattering secrets to be harbored between them, but while she was open and forthcoming with her feelings Ed guarded the inner-workings of his emotions as privately as his alchemy journal. It took careful prodding and no small amount of tact to coax him into divulging what was going on in that head of his.

His sigh was exasperated but she knew she'd gotten through to him when his eyes finally sought her own. "I don't think I'm very good at it."

"Good at what?"

"Rocking, comforting, holding."

Her brow furrowed, eyes questioning.

"Being a father," he clarified.

Of course. Didn't it always lead back to that? His trepidation in regards to parenting had been evident from the baby's conception and no amount of repeated reassurances and promises of new beginnings seemed to deter his disquiet. "Is that what this is all about?"

His silence solidified the answer and she exhaled heavily through her nose.

"Edward Elric look at your son," she snapped, a staunch finger pointed in the direction of the bundle in his arms. She watched his gaze flicker from her finger to the cradled baby who was contentedly snoozing against his bare chest, tiny hands curled around his father's palm in an effort to keep his touch stationary.

Ed's eyes filled with boyish joy and she had to bite her lip to keep her laughter contained.

"He's asleep!"

"He is."

"He likes my hand."

She shook her head, smiling regardless. His giddiness was contagious. "Idiot. The fact that you're here and present in his life, that's all he needs out of his father Ed. Though changing a few diapers now and then definitely doesn't hurt."

She let him drag her to the sofa where he secured her tightly under one arm, still balancing their sleeping son at his hip. The baby gurgled drowsily and nestled his face against Ed's side.

"Heh. Looks kind of like you when you sleep."

"I do _not_ drool."

He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple. "Whatever you say Automail Princess."

She smiled up at him before closing her eyes against his chest. They were going to be okay.


End file.
